Sara Shepard - Two Truths and a Lie

Dusk had fallen outside, and the house was cool, dark, and silent. Emma didn’t know where the family had gone—it was too early to go to bed. She walked down the empty hall, her footsteps ringing out on the terra-cottatiled floor, and entered the kitchen. The pungent scents of roasted potatoes and grilled beef filled the air. The oven was still on, and Emma could just make out a plate waiting for her in a little lower compartment. She couldn’t help but feel touched. No foster mom had ever made her a plate of leftovers. Mostly she’d had to fend for herself.

But she wasn’t hungry right now. Emma walked through the kitchen and let herself out onto the redtiled patio behind the Mercer’s house. The night had a cool edge to it and after the warmth of the day, it felt like plunging into a swimming pool after a soak in a hot tub. She dragged one of the wooden chaise lounges to the darkest corner of the lawn, then stretched out on it. She’d always done her best thinking outside.

The midnight blue sky was alive with stars. They twinkled like faraway Christmas lights, bright and clear. It had been ages since Emma had sat out and just stared up at the sky. One of the last times she’d done it was the night she discovered the strange snuff video of Sutton online, back when she was living in Vegas. She’d gazed up at the cosmos, picking out her favorite stars, the ones she’d named the Mom Star, the Dad Star, and the Emma Star shortly after Becky had abandoned her, holding on to the hope that one day her true family would unite on Earth just like in the sky. Little did she know that a few moments after that, her whole life would change. She would find a family member, a sister , something she wanted more than anything in the entire world. In a roundabout way, she’d get a family, too. She had even gotten a boyfriend. But none of it was in the way she wanted.

“What are you doing out here?”

Emma jumped and turned. Mrs. Mercer slid the glass door shut behind her and joined Emma out in the yard. She was barefoot, and her raven hair was down around her shoulders. She tugged a magenta cashmere scarf around her long, slender neck.

Emma pushed herself up into a seated position. “Just looking at the stars.”

Mrs. Mercer smiled. “That used to be your favorite thing when you were little. Remember how you gave the stars your own names? You said it wasn’t fair that other people got to name them just because they happened to be born thousands of years before you were.”

“I named stars?” Emma sat up, startled. “What did I call them?”

“Nothing that original. I think there was the Mom Star. The Dad Star. The Laurel Star. The Sutton Star. And the E Constellation, for your favorite doll.” Mrs. Mercer pointed to a patch of stars just to the west. “Actually, I think that cluster up there might be it. See? It forms an E . You used to love that.”

Emma stared into the sky, dumbfounded. Sure enough, six stars formed a wide capital E .

A chill ran down her spine. It was the same cluster of stars she’d chosen, too. She knew Sutton had an old doll that she called E—maybe even for Emma—but it was uncanny that Sutton had fixated on those same stars, had even given them names. Was it a cosmic twin connection? Did Sutton know of Emma’s presence, and vice versa, somewhere deep down inside?

For what felt like the millionth time, Emma wondered what her life would have been like if she and Sutton hadn’t been separated. Would they have been friends? Would they have helped each other survive Becky’s manic moods? Would they have been placed together in foster care, or separated?

I couldn’t help but wonder, too. If I had grown up with Emma, with a twin to watch my back, would I still be alive?

Mrs. Mercer sank down into the other chaise and laced her hands behind her head. “Can I ask you something without you biting my head off?”

Emma stiffened. She wasn’t really into prying questions. She got enough of those from Quinlan. “Uh, I guess.”

“What’s going on with you and your sister?” Mrs. Mercer scooted farther back in her chair. “Ever since … what happened on Friday night, things have been worse than usual between you two.”

Emma lowered her gaze from the sky and stared at her fingernails. “I wish I knew,” she said in a forlorn voice.

“You seemed to be getting along pretty well last week,” Mrs. Mercer said softly. “You guys went to Homecoming together, talked during dinner, didn’t get into the usual fights about the usual stupid things.” She cleared her throat. “Is it me, or did things change because Thayer appeared in your bedroom?”

Emma’s skin prickled just at the sound of Thayer’s name. “Maybe,” she admitted. “I think she’s … mad, somehow. But I didn’t ask him to show up that night.”

Mrs. Mercer pulled her lower lip into her mouth, thinking. “You know, Sutton, Laurel loves you, but you’re not exactly the easiest sister to have.”

“What do you mean?” Emma asked, crossing her legs and shifting closer toward Mrs. Mercer. A stiff wind tousled her hair and numbed her nose.

Yeah , I thought indignantly. What did that mean, Mom?

“Well, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, and everything seems to come so easily for you. Friends, boyfriends, tennis …” Mrs. Mercer leaned forward and pushed a lock of Emma’s hair behind her ear. “Thayer may have been Laurel’s best friend, but no one could deny the way he looked at you.”

Emma’s breath caught in her throat. Did Mrs. Mercer know something about Sutton and Thayer’s relationship? “And… how did he look at me?”

Mrs. Mercer studied Emma for a second, her expression giving nothing away. “Like he’d do anything to be with you.”

Emma waited, but her mother didn’t continue. She wished she’d say something concrete. But she couldn’t exactly ask, Hey, by the way, did I ever secretly date Thayer? And do you think it’s possible that he lost his temper and killed me?

A wistful smile tugged at the edges of Mrs. Mercer’s lips. “Your father used to look at me like that, you know.”

“Mo-om, gross!” Emma made a face, knowing that would have been Sutton’s reaction. But secretly she liked that Mrs. Mercer was telling her about her and Mr. Mercer’s courtship. It was nice to hear about two adults in love, two parents who wanted children and did everything in their power to give them the best life. People like that didn’t exist in her old life.

“What?” Mrs. Mercer pressed a hand innocently to her chest. “We were as young as you once, you know. Many, many years ago.”

Emma looked at the fine lines around Mrs. Mercer’s eyes and at her newly dyed hair. She’d found out that Sutton’s parents hadn’t adopted her until they were in their late thirties, after they’d been married for nearly twenty years. It was a stark contrast to Becky, who bragged to Emma that she was the “cool, young mom,” only seventeen years older than Emma was. But she always seemed more like Emma’s wayward older sister as a result.

“Are you glad you waited so long to have to kids?” Emma blurted before she could stop herself.

A tight expression passed over Mrs. Mercer’s face. A woodpecker banged away at a nearby tree. A car sputtered to life down the street. A cloud passed over the moon, momentarily darkening the night. Finally, she breathed in. “Well, I don’t know if glad is the right word. But I’m so thankful every day to have you and Laurel in our lives. I don’t know what I’d do if something ever happened to one of you.”

Emma shifted uncomfortably, the guilt gripping her like a vise. It was moments like these that she regretted having to keep a secret from Sutton’s family—a big secret. Their daughter had been murdered, and every day that passed was a missed opportunity to find her killer. When Emma had been on the bus to Tucson, eager to meet Sutton, she’d carried a small torch of hope that maybe, just maybe, Sutton’s adoptive family would take her in, too, let her live her senior year with them. Ironically, she’d gotten her wish. What would they do to her if they found out the truth? Throw her out for sure. Probably even have her arrested.